Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Saturday, December 25, 2010

The smell of coffee tip toed up the stairs and made its way under my door to wake me, closely followed by my youngest sister kissing my forehead to hurry me down to start the Christmas morning process. Even though there was no extended family this year to join in the festivities the tree was finely framed in a nest of multi-colored gift papers, bows, tags and boxes of all sizes. We all gathered around and claimed areas of the family room to keep their unwrapped piles of treasures.

Getting things is all fine and dandy, but the look on my mothers face when she opened up her ipad was worth more than any paper-ripping surprise. My brothers presence over video chat was unique and exciting. Since he lives in Texas we chatted back and forth as we watch each other unwrap all our gifts, laughing and giggling about inside jokes and gawking at his ever-so-adorable dog.

I hope everyone is having a merry christmas this year and is still open to the whole spirit of Christmas and its true meaning. If you've lost touch with such spirits please watch Charlie Browns Christmas, Linus will put it in perfect perspective for you.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Monday, December 6, 2010

I woke to a very warm welcome from the day. Glancing out my window at the sunrise, while still in bed set the tone for this very stressful day. The tone being "it will all be alright". Truth is, I have been running around like a crazy woman preparing myself for the upcoming events that the day holds .

Kidney Doctor in the morning.

Presentation infront of senior class at noon.

And my final seminar review around 7. ::deep breath::

Part of me isn't so worried anymore. Things have been hustling and bustling yes, but I feel like everything is falling into place, no matter the shape and size. Like a jig saw puzzle, with a little effort, it always comes together.

My efforts now find me in the Hardie building at school, printing out some work that I had second guessed and had not planned to print, until I had a really interesting conversation about them with a friend.

Friday, December 3, 2010

I had that moment again. The moment when I am just an object. A functioning machine with no instructions and no warning labels.

I was standing there, soaking wet, just watching the water droplets sliding down my hair leading to the plunge, right at the tip, only to end up in the vast, dark, curving world of pipes. I thought about the journey of those water droplets. I wanted to change their path. I saw myself like water, I saw my life like the dark pipes. I felt myself tossing and turning, flowing faster and faster with all the other water droplets. Its so dark I can't see but I feel the pulling the pushing. There is a point when I think I can grab onto the walls of these pipes and stop for a second to catch my breath but everything I grab slips away. Even my effort echos like nails on a chalk board. I felt sad for the little droplets, because I don't want to be in these pipes anymore. I pinched one wet strand of hair and squeezed the little droplets out. I saw them fall faster. I moved my hair around so none of the drops would land on top of one another. It was more like rain in that moment. A leaky sink always drips in the same place, over and over again. But rain scatters, there are part of earth that remain untouched by water for even an hour after a storm has begun.

I snap back to reality and feel a shiver, not knowing how long I had actually been standing there under no running water. My brain told me to move, so i did and wrapped myself in a towel.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

What am I doing? That is the one question that I toss around my head like a tennis ball. I hear the hollow bounce sound, I know what it is, but I am focused on something else. I know that thought so well, and with every bounce its the same question, and for some reason every time it is asked, I feel like I have to formulate a different answer.

Well, I'm moving.

I'm making art?

I am going with the flow.

I am freaking out.

I am sleeping now.

I am saying the wrong things.

I am making change.

I am restless.

Thats what I'm doing right?

I caught myself looking at both my blogs on the dashboard of "blogger home page". One for my fine art work and one for photography, makes sense... I was stupid to think that those two things could be separate. And here I find myself completely set-up, in a mess that I created for myself by establishing a divide. I am drawing on photographs, I am painting digitally. You would think I'd know in what blog they go in since all through seminar we've been categorizing art like its our job, when its quite the opposite really. --Paying lots of money to learn how to categorize what is strictly opinion and perception.-- But no, I am at a complete mesh point in my art where it is neither photography nor painting, however it has very limited mediums incorporated, so does is automatically become fine art?

I've been finding that a lot lately, catching myself conforming to ideas that I would much rather remain disconnected from yet aware of at the same time.

I would really like to remain curious. And really see how far down this rabbit hole I can go.

About Me

Having been slightly spoiled growing up with access to digital cameras all the time, Jenna Lou has grown as an artist using photography and bringing her images to the next level with her keen eye for color, light and composition. Before her art career lead her to college, Jenna used a makeshift traveling studio that consisted of bed sheets, desk lamps, and anything she could use around the house to create a studio environment wherever she went. Now, she attends Montserrat College of Art where she will be graduating in May 2011 with her BFA.
Having balance and control is important in her process when it comes to working with various subjects. Working with models is something Jenna has been doing since she first picked up a camera. With her attentiveness to the unique aspects of a model’s personality, along with adding her own spice to a shoot, she creates works that evoke intense emotion and narrative qualities because of the connection she has with her subject.